To Have and To Hold
by Kylara
Summary: [Discontinued] Twelve years from the end of the show. Hayama plans to propose to Sana (who will probably say yes), but then they have to go through the press. And a wedding. And... Kurata Misako. ^^ Discontinuation note added...
1. Prologue: Life As It Stands

Hmmm.  My contribution to the Kodocha fanfic world.  I take a few liberties with their world, but in general, it takes place in the same place.  Do not expect drama.  It's not going to happen.  This story is based on the anime, I suppose – after the show ends.  (I just watched episodes 100-102 recently – how darling!  The manga ending might be more romantic, but I love the anime more.)

~

Standard Disclaimer Applies.  
~  
  


Prologue: Life as it Stands.

  
~

The man sat like a stone in his seat, the waiter briefly thought.  He had been waiting there for over an hour, and the waiter could have sworn that he hadn't moved an inch the entire time.  He had approached once, asking him if he wanted something, but the man had cast such a _look_ at him that his courage had failed, and he had ran off.  The waiter shuddered – dang, he made him nervous.  Sighing, he turned away, and picked up his notepad and pen to take orders from another table.  He was going to ask Satoru if he would take that table – after all, what were friends for?   

Hayama waited until the strange waiter was looking away.   Shifting in his seat, he looked suspiciously from the right, then to the left.  Since no one was watching him, he looked up at his watch.  Seven forty five… where the hell was Tsuyoshi?  He was supposed to be exactly on time so that they could get out of there and into private – after all, if someone spotted Hayama Akito out, talking in a low voice with Sasaki Tsuyoshi, they might think they were plotting something.  Which they weren't (Hayama had long decided it wasn't strictly-by-definition a _plot_, which somewhat relieved Tsuyoshi's excuse-for-a-conscience), but somehow the story would get back to Sana and _then_ Hayama would _really_ be in trouble… 

"Akito!"

"AHH!" Hayama yelled, crashing to the tiled floor with a thud.  As everyone else in the restaurant turned to see the commotion, he looked up in blank horror to see Kurata Sana, smiling cheerfully at him through her sunglasses and a colorful silk scarf wrapped stylishly around her hair.

She was completely oblivious to this, of course – she just wore what she felt like wearing, with no clue as to what the fashion was, and she reached out a hand and pulled him up, kissing him on the cheek lightly before she sat down.

"Akito!  You waiting for somebody?  Is it okay if I join you?  Filming for _Kaze no Yukata _is canceled for the rest of the day!" she said cheerfully, her brown eyes warm and bright with curiosity and sheer happiness.  They were so trusting, so happy… if she knew what he was planning, he was sure they would fall into confusion.  And maybe anger (although he hoped not).

He was hoping that when the time came, he would able to slam the news into her without her realizing what went on, and then just get out of there.  Maybe, he thought, if he did it fast enough, she wouldn't realize what went on… _But I wasn't sure, so I was asking Tsuyoshi, but where is he, damn it?_  He thought briefly.

Resigning himself to the situation, Hayama waved the waiter over.  Carefully ignoring her earlier question, he said, "… Sana, what are you doing here?  You're hiding again, underneath those sunglasses… er… you really think no one will recognize you?"

She smiled.  "Of course it's going to work!  I'm Kurata Sana, twenty-three year old actress!  I always have perfect disguises that no one can ever recognize me in!  But, Akito, you never answered my question – what are you doing here?  I thought you told me you were working today…" She leaned in suddenly, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.  "Yes – what _are _you doing here?  You're not… possibly…"  

Hayama gulped.

"SETTING UP A PLAN TO STEAL ME AWAY TO HAWAII, ARE YOU?"  Akito slumped over in relief.  Completely ignorant to this, she continued happily, "Oh, what a nice idea!  But Akito, I have my work to do!  I don't think I can do that…" she said, settling back in her seat and taking a sip of the tea that had already been on the table.   

He smiled at her – just the slightest bit.  She returned one of her wide, gorgeous, real grins – the kind he loved best, even through those silly sunglasses.  He knew her best; that smile was never to be confused with the kind that she showed on TV – or movies – or in concert – or on stage…

It was certainly not the fake, more impersonal smile that the world saw.  Ah, but they believed it; Kurata Sana-chan could make them believe everything and nothing, as one of the most famous and talented actresses in the world.  Although Sana was only twenty-three, the world had known her for years and years, ever since her famous (some called it infamous) debut in _Kodomo no Omocha_ (which no longer showed, especially when the star had left for the final time).  After finishing college, she had devoted herself to her acting work, but carefully balanced it with her social life.  (Which the media tried to document, but failed miserably, since they'd have to defeat Sana first, and that was just not going to happen.)

To Hayama Akito (who was working for his masters at the local university), she was simply Sana, his girlfriend ever since he had gotten his black belt at age seventeen.

However, after much contemplation, Hayama had finally come to a decision: He no longer wanted Sana to be his girlfriend.  Not that this would make a great difference to the media; as far as they knew, Sana didn't have a boyfriend, and was instead, avidly pursued by a list of famous admirers (which _still_ included, to Hayama's great annoyance, Kamura Naozumi, despite his and Sana's constantly stating, "We're not dating!").

Hayama was sick of it – and it had been one of the main factors in him deciding not to date her anymore.

But how should he break it to her?  That was the major problem, which he was _going_ to have Tsuyoshi help him with, but it looked like that it wasn't going to happen now…

As the waiter came over, Hayama waved an impatient hand at him, then handed him the menu.  "I want the Chef's Special of sushi…" pausing, he pulled out his wallet, and flipped through the money. 

"Sana, you can order whatever you want – I'll pay."  

Sana beamed at Hayama from across the table.  

"Akito, are you still annoyed because I paid for us last time?"  He scowled.  "No."  

Sana laughed.  "Ok, then you'll pay.  Waiter-san, I'll just have some dumplings, and would you refill the pitcher of tea?  I'm afraid I drank it all!"  She smiled up at the waiter, who unblinkingly took the tea pitcher.  He looked down at her momentarily – then looked back, his eyes widening.

Too late, Hayama realized that Sana's sunglasses had slipped down her nose (she never could wear them properly).  The waiter paused, then put the pitcher of tea on the tray.  Maybe, Hayama thought, the waiter didn't recognize her – he might not watch movies.  Or listen to music.  Or watch TV.  Or go to plays.  Or see any of the ads that had her face plastered on them in the street.

Yeah, right.

"OH MY GOD!  IT'S KURATA SANA-CHAN!  THE REAL KURATA SANA-CHAN!  I'M SUCH A BIG FAN OF YOURS; CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?  HERE'S A NAPKIN!  HOW AMAZING, THE REAL SANA-CHAN IS ORDERING FROM THE SAME RESTAURANT I'M A WAITER AT!"

Instantly, Hayama and Sana were surrounded by the entire restaurant.  Hayama watched Sana quickly collect her thoughts (while signing the napkin with a flourish).

Standing up, she took off her scarf and sunglasses, beaming at the crowd.  "Hello, I'm Kurata Sana!" she said, her brown eyes shining.  Sheepishly, she rubbed her head.  "I guess I was caught!  Oh, look at the time, I really have to be going!  Good bye, everybody!"  And with that, she shoved the napkin into the waiter's waiting hands, and then whirled out, sprinting through the crowd that quickly followed.

Moments later, Hayama's cell-phone rung.  Pressing the "on" button, he heard Sana say over the noise, "Akito!  I'm sorry I couldn't stay to eat with you, but I'll see you later Saturday night, then, okay?  We're still on for dinner, right?" 

Hayama nodded briefly.  "Akito, if you nod, I don't know if that's a yes or not.  Say yes next time, okay?  Love you!  Ja!" and with that, the dial tone sounded through his ear.

It was at that precise moment that Sasaki Tsuyoshi walked through the door, grinning like the maniac that he was.  "Oh!  Akito-kun!  I'm sorry I was late, but there was traffic, and then guess who I saw being chased down the street?  San- OW!"  

Hayama had smashed Tsuyoshi very neatly into the ground.  

"I really am sorry, Akito-kun!  You didn't actually run into Sana-chan, did you?"  

He took a brief look at Hayama from the ground.  

"Oh, you did?  Hahahaha!  How funny!  I told you I saw her being chased by lots of people, right?  Hahahaha!  Oh, look, these are her sunglasses and scarf on the table!  Hahaha!  I wonder if I should ask Aya-chan to return them to Sana-chan?"  Hayama quickly snatched the scarf and sunglasses, stuffing them in his pocket.  "Hahaha!  You don't need to be so possessive!  Besides, eventually, you're not going to be dating her anymore!  Hahahaha!  Sana-chan doesn't know what's going on, huh?  Hahahaha!"  

"OUCH!  Akito-kun, why did you hit me again?  And did you go shopping for what you wanted to give Sana-chan before you stop dating yet?"

Hayama scowled.  Reaching into his jacket pocket, he fumbled around a bit before finally grabbing a small, rectangular-shaped package.  Plunking it on the table, he carefully undid the foam packaging, then set it down.

It was a pretty little music box, made out of mahogany.  Carved around it were swirls of flowers, done by an artist's sensitive hand.  He had bought it because it had seemed to be a nice, if clichéd, way to end a relationship.  In other words, a bribe for peace.

Reaching over, Hayama pressed the catch that opened up the box.  As it played a soft, wistful melody, the lid slowly opened up – to reveal a platinum ring, a fairly small diamond set in the metal, studded with pearls.  It was the best Hayama could afford.  Simple, but absolutely gorgeous and unique – and only for Sana.

"Wow!" exclaimed Tsuyoshi.  "You know, I've never seen that ring before, and I went to lots of different stores when I was looking for an engagement ring for Aya-chan!  There as that little gold one, and the little pink one, and you know, I would've just gotten her plastic but Sana-chan told me that wouldn't be a very good idea!  You know, when you first told me you were going to stop dating Sana, I thought you meant that you were going to break up with her!  Hahahah- OW!  Akito-kun, stop hitting me!"

~

Okay, so even after twelve years, Tsuyoshi is still as goofy and dense as ever.  I realize that it might have been slightly confusing through this fic; after all, I refer to Hayama as Hayama while Sana refers to him as Akito – I think that after all this time, she might call him Akito.  Then again, she might still be obstinately calling him Hayama.  Who knows.  I adore Hayama, though – oh, so much comedic torture is heading toward him in this fic… what fun to write!  ^^; Review!

Ah, the _Kaze no Yukata_?  Well, I was thinking of her other movie in the show, _Mizu no Yukata,_ and at first I replaced it with _Mimizu no Yukata (_what Zenjirou was talking about)_, _but that seemed kind of cheesy, so I shoved in _kaze.  _"Palace of the Wind."  So, that's her current project.  If I don't watch it, it'll turn into Nausicaa.  (Okay, so Sana-chan doesn't really fit the description of Nausicaa, but bear with me.)

~ 

December 27, 2001 

2:36 a.m.

~   

Edited and posted again January 31, 2002.

PS – has anyone noticed that with authors who post the time when they finished it, the times are almost always at evil times of the morning/night?


	2. My Discontinuation Note

When I first wrote this note – this is a sobstory of a discontinuation note, by the way - I ended up with a three-page ESSAY.  Single spaced, size ten font, written in Times New Roman.  That's disgusting.  [Well, it was really Verdana.]  For one thing, all I posted was an eight-page prologue.  

Well, I felt the teeniest bit guilty.

When an author whose story I've been reading stops putting it on hold and trashes it, I feel rather annoyed.  Depending on how much I like the story, I usually am tempted to take them by the shoulders, give him or her a good shake, and then toss the well-meaning, now-dead author over the nearest cliff.  Then the coyotes that my also-well-meaning dog barks at around 3:30 a.m. will take care of the corpse.

Well, you can't have liked this fanfic that much.  If you did, I pity you.  A lot.  A slight interest is one thing, but more than that is overkill.

Well, no.  That's me being evil.  Sorry.

Okay, perhaps that's a bit harsh.  I'll just say what happens when I come into contact with it, "it" being the fanfic, and why I can't write it anymore.  Warning: I am called melodramatic at least two times a day.  I get rather disappointed when I don't.

Oh, and I don't say it a lot in here.  Gomen ne! 

~

I see it.  It is there, innocently opened as a .htm file in MS Word.  It leers at me.

No, leer in this situation is not used with a sexual connotation.

My heart beats faster.

My stomach does flip-flops.

My hand moves to the keyboard.

The keys are punched out.

[Sana moved swiftly to the win]

The sound of typing is cut off due to my pained screaming.  It echoes through my house.

My sister walks over and punches me.  She leaves, muttering, holding one of my dime-store novels.  I love her dearly.

I turn back to the fanfic.

[Sana moved swiftly to the window]

I forgot punctuation.  I forgot punctuation.  I've been doing punctuation since I learned to write.

Just write it again, I mutter to myself.

[Sana moved swiftly to the window.]

It looks wrong.  Why?  Bloody hell, how do you expect me to know _why_?  It just does, for heaven's sake!  Try again, try again, Kylara-dearie…

I'm hearing voices in my head.  This is bad.  Oh, hell, not even just voices, I'm talking to myself.

Breathe, Kylara.  The fanfic will still be here if you die.  You made Yumi-chan promise to break into your computer and post all your fanfics if you do just die one day.

She will remember, won't she?

…

[Sana walked slowly to the window.]

WHY THE HELL WOULD SANA MOVE _SLOWLY_?  SHE'S A [edit expletive] [edit expletive]!!!

I just used more than one exclamation mark.  Tackiness.  It's tacky.

Why is it tacky?

It just is, damn it.

I'm swearing.  And not the kind by the moon, either.  Romeo was an idiot.

And I think, so am I.

But I start again.  I look at the monitor.  This is what it says:

_Sana moved swiftly to the win_

_Sana moved swiftly to the window_

_Sana moved swiftly to the window._

_Sana walked slowly to the window._

_%#^#@^%~!!!_

My vision dims.

I quietly move my hand to the mouse.  My mouse jerks unhappily.  It is the bane of my existence.  Never try to edit a picture on 40:1 magnification with a mouse that does not move properly.  I would know.  My KKJ scanlation nearly blew up on me the other day.  Silk was in little pieces.

I'm babbling.

Something is wrong.

I watch the handy little PC arrow move to the upper left hand corner of my monitor.

Mind you, this is Microsoft Word 2000, product of an extremely deranged mind.  Hell, only extremely deranged minds are possessors of over fifty billion in stocks.

Oh, yeah.  Since this is MS Word, the upper left hand corner happens to have the following drop windows: File, Edit, View, Insert, Format, Tools, Table, Window, & Help.

My mouse moves to none of those.  Instead, it hits the little icon of an opened manila folder.

C: Junk \! Fanfics \! Writs\

I am now in my writing folder, where products of a different and less profitable deranged mind rest.

If you were wondering, the exclamation marks make it so that the folder is alphabetically listed first in the folder it's in for easier location.  I learned that from my sister.  No, my other one, not the one who punched me.

There is a folder listed in here called "To Have and to Hold".  It has barely 70 KB of chapters, notes, and et cetera in it.  Yes, chapters.  I wrote two chapters other than the prologue.  They were never posted, duh.  Not because I'm evil.  I am evil, but not because of that.  Mainly because I thought they needed work.  Especially chapter one.  It stunk.  Oh, my gosh, it stunk.

The little white arrow on the monitor does not move to that folder.  That should be obvious.  Why should it when the file is already open?  

Instead, it moves somewhere else.  I wonder vaguely, is the fact that the arrow is white outlined in black a political statement of some sort?  Because the color combo for Windows XP is just ugly.  I think I'm glad I have Windows ME.

Me, me, me.  How self-centered a system this is.

At any rate, my mouse moves to a folder called "When Ice Burns".  I check the properties, and am somewhat amused to see it has over five times the amount of kilobytes as did To Have and To Hold.

Again, there is an odd, vague thought in my head, running along the lines of, "I think that has nothing to do with _Kodomo no Omocha_.  Well, I think."

I should certainly hope not.  The day that someone writes a fanfic called "When Ice Burns" for an anime like _Kodomo no Omocha _is the day that I finish "To Have and To Hold".  Hell, I just realized that this title sounds like a dime store novel.  Shoot me.

No, this fanfic, as I recall with alarming clarity, is not _Kodocha_.

What is it?  I rack my brain.

It, amazingly enough, takes very little time.

It's a romance fanfic.

The people reading this must be banging their heads on the wall.  Repeatedly.  Here, I'll join you.

Ah.  It's not just a romance fanfic.

It's one about… ah, forgot her name.

Wait, I only forgot her last name.

Oops.  She lived five hundred fifty years ago.  They didn't have last names yet.

Ah, but they did have first names, right?  _Right?_

…

Ah, Kikyou.

Who did I pair her up with again?

Oh, yeah, Inuyasha.

… Wait a minute.  That sounds wrong.  I'm a Kagome-Inuyasha shipper.

Oh, of course.

That was a different fanfic.  And it was pre-Kagome.  Duh.  It all works nicely.

Hmm.  This is the one where I paired Kikyou with Sesshoumaru.

All if any _Inuyasha_ fans reading this, I expect you to flinch.

Hmm.  I've got ten files in here, from notes to song lyrics to actual chapters.

I open them all, except for the lyrics, since I don't need them.  I suppose I can do Iwao Junko karaoke later.  Blessed be animelyrics.com.  Scarlet is such a gorgeous song.  Oh my, don't I have an essay due at school in a week?  Oh well.

One hundred twenty minutes later, I've hammered my _Inuyasha _fanfic into little pieces.  I have several new segments finished.  My Winamp player, which changes its skin with every song (I have a hundred and seventy four, why not?), is playing melancholy songs in order to set a sort of mood for the fic.  Chiaki is leering at me from the player.  I will die a happy woman.  Oh, my, another Sakamoto Maaya song.  Why do I have a hundred and fifteen of her songs?  I just realized that a seventh of my hard drive is mp3's.

I also feel like the proverbial cat with yellow feathers sticking artfully out of her innocent mouth.  What, an empty cage?  How horrible.  I wonder what happened.

Strange.  My _Kodocha _fanfic has been closed somewhere along the way.  I wonder why.

Hmm, I think vaguely.  Again.  I should work on another fanfic.  I just did a lot of work on WIB, after all.

I look at my ! Writs folder.

Oh, my goodness.  I have been possessed.  Somebody, Checkmate me.  Preferably Sindbad, because he is the epitome of sex appeal in a manga character.

All but four of my fanfics are _Inuyasha_.

That means, I think avidly (this is what I finished advanced math for – to do fractions and sums), that a fifth of my fanfics are not _Inuyasha_.  That four fifths are.  I have sixteen flipping stories, and they're all _Inuyasha_, from introspects to multiparters to even articles, and they're all _Inuyasha_.

And I don't feel the least bit damn guilty.

And I look over at my notes, my prologue, and everything else for To Have and To Hold.

And I think it's a shame.  That it's a waste.  That I never should do this, because it just proves I'm not a very steady writer.

What the hell.  I have six multi-parters going on right now anyway.

I can't write this fanfic.  I can't get the ideas out of my head into words anymore.  I don't even _have_ ideas anymore.

Maybe it's because I haven't watched any for such a long time.  Maybe it's because I hate Naozumi.  I don't know.  Maybe it's because I'm not twenty-four, and I'm not going to write about some type of thing that _I _don't know about, because it'll just be complete BS.

I can imagine Sana's personality at twenty-four.  Still perky, still bright, still funny, still sweet and sincere.  Still in love with Akito.  Still insane.  But how does she act still?  She's not eleven anymore.  Akito is insane, too.  Dark, scowling, humorous, still head over heels with Sana, still brave [or stupid] enough to steal kisses when she'll give them freely.  Whereupon she will kill him and forgive him.  

Or will she, when she's that much older?

Tsuyoshi, blockheaded as usual, but older.  Aya, gray haired and smiling, probably married to Mr. Blockhead.  Naozumi, not chasing after Sana.  I don't hold with that theory.  Come on, eight years…?

Eight years.  Wow, they must change a lot.  Fuuko probably married Takaishi-kun.  She was one scary fourth grader.

So I say while listening to a Dance Dance Revolution MP3.  No, I don't want to follow the sun.

I know why.  I wrote an essay on it originally.  But you can figure out why if you read between these lines.  Well, at least if you're smart.  And I'm not a particularly difficult person to figure out.

I'm sorry.  But I can't do it.  I had a fun time writing this note, and it was more fun than I've had trying to pound out a fanfic that isn't going to be any fun to read because it wasn't any fun to write.

Those of you who said you liked this fanfic, I'm sorry.  It's to you who reviewed that I am the sorriest.  I'm sorry, but I can't write this anymore.  ;_;  Urushite kudasai…

~ July 12, 2002

An extremely apologetic Kylara bids farewell, and leaves to beat her head against a convenient wall.

PS  
There is a very slightly chance that I might actually take up this fanfic again in the future.  You would need a machine from a Douglas Adam book in order to get that chance.  Fans of the series know exactly what machine I'm talking about.  Especially since the chances are about infinity to 0.0001.  I would've added more zeroes, but that's quite ostentatious.  But because of that chance, I am not willing to give up my notes or my chapters for any reason at all.  I am not a believer of the idea that if an author discontinues a story or vanishes off the face of the planet, you have the right to continue it or have a sequel without the author's permission.  Don't ask.  You won't get it.

On another note, the prologue will stay up, as a reminder to myself for being a Really Big Stupid Idiot for not being able to finish a fanfic that I had so wanted to.  I really am sorry.  I sound arrogant, sarcastic, and dense, but I am.  I never wanted to discontinue this, but with all my classes, my other fanfics [Inuyasha has eaten my alive], and Life, the Universe, and Everything, I can't.  I'm extremely sorry.  You have my permission to snipe at me privately through e-mail.

Kylara@haneoka.net

^_~ Snipe at me through reviews and that'll just show you have bad taste.  G'bye!


End file.
